


New Beginnings

by Raspberries_Heartbeat



Series: Clint Barton: Avenger, Archer extraordinaire, and Father of the year [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adoptive Father Clint Barton, Avengers Family, Avengers Movie Night, Awesome Clint Barton, Bedtime Stories, Bonding, Bruce Banner Bakes, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton-centric, Clint has a crush on Tony, Crushes, Deaf Clint Barton, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Father-Daughter Relationship, Insecure Clint Barton, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Not Canon Compliant, Quality Time, Slightly Dyslexic Clint, Stark Tower, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers is a national treasure, Team as Family, Tony Being Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-05-15 00:21:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14780073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raspberries_Heartbeat/pseuds/Raspberries_Heartbeat
Summary: Clint is reluctant to move into Stark Tower, because nobody knows he's an adoptive father. When the team finds out during movie night, Clint realizes that they already are a batshitcrazy, awesome family.He decides it's time that his daughter Lily becomes part of this family, too.***Note: this is a fic in cooperation with KasyStarchild. More info in the notes!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is closely connected with a lovely Steve/Bucky series by a dear friend of mine, check it out:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/series/1029186

It isn’t an every-day-occurrence that the world’s mightiest superheroes gather together in a room to spend their time peacefully. Because although they are finally able to take a break from saving the world and generally being awesome, calm tranquility is not really the Avengers-Style. Possibly, there could be a reason for this.

“Wednesday is movie night; GOD DAMNIT ROGERS, get your star-spangled ass over here, we ARE watching _Shrek_. This is CULTURE!”

Most possibly, this reason is a very eccentric engineering, world-saving, goatee-wearing genius billionaire. Precisely, peaceful tranquility is the exact opposite of everything that is quintessentially Tony Stark.

And since our heros can’t kick the man out of his own tower- considering that he allows them to live there and everything- such evenings are rare. Most of the time when they gather, there is generally a loud atmosphere with playful teasing, irritated bickering, and obscene amounts of food involved.

And since all the bad guys of the world seem to be taking a break during this time of the year, these gatherings happen more and more frequently, and all of their participants grow more and more fond of them (that doesn’t mean they would ever _say_ that out loud, because superhero pride and all that).

 

Nursing a diet coke, Clint Barton smiles idly to himself and watches Stark and Rogers get into a heated argument about what should and shouldn’t be termed as ‘culture’. He loves this. Just spending time with his team-mates, his _friends_ (and he doesn’t have many of those), successfully forgetting the heavy responsibility the world has placed into their hands. Life is easy, in those moments. It usually doesn’t last.

Although, he could make an effort to make it last.

They are all living at Stark Tower. Everyone. Well, everyone except for Clint.

Him moving-in would increase the time spent with the team, and consequently increase this warm fuzzy feeling in his stomach (“I’m not drunk, but thanks for trying to be helpful here, Nat”) whenever he does. He just can’t help himself.

He likes these idiots- he really likes them a whole fucking lot. It's not like he doesn’t want to or that they don’t want him to move in; if Tony’s hearty protests whenever he leaves are anything to go by (although Tony might be a liiiittle bit drunk while voicing them, but the sentiment seems to be genuine, nonetheless).

 

It’s just that Clint has a secret. A secret, that wasn’t necessarily supposed to stay one- it’s just something that alters living together with him drastically….and that is crucial enough that he should have mentioned it ages ago, especially in front of people he calls his friends.

But nobody knows- well, nobody except for Natasha, because Natasha knows literally everything and then some about him.

And to open up now seems… awkward. He realizes that it’s only awkward because it’s long-overdue; and the realization that waiting will only increase the awkwardness doesn’t make this any easier, thank you very much. Nat says he should just go for it. Nat, technically speaking, seems to be living and succeeding by this mantra; but Clint doubts that it will be useful in this special case.

Actually, that’s a lie. He knows she’s right (annoyingly, she does so, too), and he’s just a chicken-shit about it. Because revealing this secret would ultimately change their perception of him; and not in a fun or cringy kind of way, like realizing Steve _still_ thinks that JARVIS lives in the ceiling or that Tony hides in his workshop for days at a time, sustaining himself on nothing but his genius, arrogance, and coffee.

No, this secret is something completely different. And Clint is not sure whether he’d be comfortable with the fallout. He likes the way they see him now: care-free, and dorky, and quick-witted- and … somehow it would change.

 

He is not ashamed- on the contrary; it’s hard not to be proud when you’re the adoptive father of the most charming little gal currently residing in the SHIELD headquarters; but nevertheless, it’s just something that nobody expects from him.

Hawk-eye Clint Barton, arrow-shooting, quick-moving superspy and general awesome guy as a father? It sounds silly, even to his own ears. Or more accurately it did, four years ago…

***

The mission had been over quick, but its aftermath was quite ugly. Clint wasn’t particularly fond of those tracking missions, and he didn’t really know why SHIELD needed the usb-stick currently nestled in his chest-pocket (but part of his recruiting as a SHIELD agent had been the strict order to never ask questions. They didn’t hire him to think. He was supposed to function).

The target had been chased down quickly but the majority of the fight had taken place- oh, the irony- in a circus. There was a great commotion underneath the performers; and one woman must have taken the opportunity to flee. Whatever she had been fleeing from, Clint could only guess later.

It didn’t really matter, people don’t always need a good reason to escape their sorry life. Most people, however, have the decency to leave nothing behind.

Most people. She wasn’t most people. She went without her child.

 

Phil said that’s not SHIELD’s problem. Clint disagrees. Phil kept trying to talk some sense into him over the intercom, while the archer talks to the elderly owner of the circus. Unsurprisingly, he’s very much alike the man who later prided himself with “having raised the famous Hawkeye like a child of my own”, when in reality Clint had raised himself.

They were all alike in a sense, and this wasn’t an environment to let a child grow up in. Nobody knows better than Clint.

And she was still so young, not older than five, six perhaps, and she already had that vacant look in her eyes; Clint recognizes the look of neglect when he sees it. He’s lived by it, for years.

She cried, a little bit, but didn’t ask about her mother. She did watch her leave. Phil’s rant reached its passionate crescendo, when the archer turned off the intercom. He kneeled in front of her carefully, like she’s a frightened animal that would flee at the first signs of danger.

Maybe she was, back then.

“Hey, don’t be scared.” he said quietly. “We’re the good guys.” he pointed his finger behind him, where some SHIELD agents were still gathered, unsure about what to do with this situation.

“Do you have anywhere to go? Family we could contact? You’re hurt.” It was true, there was a small trickle of blood running from her hairline down to the corner of her almond-shaped eyes.

She shook her head, slowly. Predictably.

“Do you want to stay at the circus? With your friends?” Again, a shake of the head. This time, more quickly. In fact, suddenly she seemed anxious to leave. To see such stress on such a young face is something Clint won’t be able to forget so easily.

“I’m Clint.” he extended his hand. She took it, cautiously. Her fingers were very cold.

“Lily.”

“Don’t worry, Lily. We’ll make sure everything’ll be alright.”

 

Clint Barton doesn’t know very much. Never did, never will. It’s a fact he has accepted about himself long ago; “There is no cure for stupid,” as his first and only foster father had put charmingly.

But he knows he just can’t leave this girl behind. Nobody had saved him, back then. He always had had to save himself.

Clint Barton doesn’t know much. But he knows how to make this right.

 

He had disobeyed orders before, and now Natasha is SHIELDs best agent. And Lily very much was, as Phil so nicely put it “SHIELD’s problem”. He argued his case. Phil said he was driving him insane. Right before he passed the order, that the girl should stay at the SHIELD headquarters, until an adequate caregiver could be found for her. His glance dared Clint to make a comment.

Phil Coulson is one of the few people that Clint has always considered to be his friends.

***

Revealing this is… private and huge; not to speak about the vulnerability of introducing his team to this part of himself that he had kept so carefully hidden.

Clint doesn’t trust people easily- just another ugly byproduct of being on the run for almost all his life (away from the foster homes, along with the circus, as a hired assassin, as an agent of SHIELD)- and he honestly doesn’t even know how to start with _this_.

In an outburst of sudden anxious energy, he fidgets with his phone to distract himself from the nervous fluttering in his guts and realizes that it’s almost ten-thirty; time to go back to SHIELD.

Clint rises from his seat with the quiet, delicate fashion of a cat, hoping to sneak out before they even fully realize that he’s gone. Nat’s eyes meet his from across the room and she rises an accusatory eyebrow at him. He shrugs and smiles kind of helplessly. It’s not exactly a secret that Natasha doesn’t approve of his handling of the situation at all; and if even a world-class spy criticizes your lack of openness, you know you’re doing something wrong.

***

Natasha had been royally pissed off when she realized what he considered to do. A child? What had he been thinking?! There’s no place for a child in a life like this. And there was certainly no place in _his_ life for a child.

Lily had been at the SHIELD headquarters for half a year. It shouldn’t be this hard to find a caregiver for her, but Clint had the fishy feeling that some of the agents were growing attached to her, too. Or maybe even SHIELD wasn’t so heartless to withdraw the only safe space and comfort the little girl had known for a very long time.

Lily was adapting fast to the situation; and as she grew more comfortable around the agents, nothing of the shy, withdrawn girl was left. Lily was happy, probably happier than a child in her sorry situation usually was, and bright, and charmed half of SHIELD around her little finger.

She had found a special liking in Clint, since he was the reason she was staying at SHIELD at all. As for Clint, he _adored_ her. He had never seen himself much of a parental type, his line of work made that thought almost impossible; but whenever Lily sneaked into the office he shares with Natasha, to nap on his couch; whenever she insisted on him reading to her, although his reading is slow and uncertain at times; whenever she laughed, the innocent laugh of childhood, filled with wonder and trust; whenever this happens, Clint wished he would know what it takes to be a good father.

***

As time flies by, Clint still finds himself wishing for the same thing occasionally. He’s doing his best. There are good days, very good days; and bad days, very bad. Days where he realizes the ridiculousness of his efforts- how could a father-less good-for-nothing who never really had a childhood _know_ how to raise a child? How could _he_ pretend that he _knows_ what to do?

During those days, the archer tries even _harder_ than usual; just to feel like he isn’t failing at the only thing he’s really trying to be excellent at.

All those years ago, she needed a legal guardian. There had been a sudden gaping emptiness in Clint’s chest. Natasha was right, this was insane. But he just didn’t care.

Maybe that had been his first step to become a good father.

Clint eyes his best friend for a thoughtful moment. They've come a long way; Natasha and Lily. It's actually a little miracle in itself; how a badass Russain agent and a half-Korean probably orphan (Nobody knows where her biological father is) became friends; how Natasha became "Auntie Tasha" and Lily became "little fox".

 

When Nat catches him watching, she gives him one of her slow, teasing smirks. If you’re playing against Natasha Romanoff, you should know that she’s playing dirty.

Clint knows.

They _invented_ this game together.

 

So, when Clint passes her on his way to the door and she trips him with a smug grin, he isn’t even surprised. The noise interrupts the heated Rogers-Stark-argument and startles a very sleepy Bruce Banner, who had been out like a light as soon as the opening credits began. Suddenly, all eyes are on him, as he peels himself as gracefully as he can off the floor.

 

“Aw, you’re leaving already?” And there it is, the patented Tony Stark pout that usually makes all resolves waver. It would be easier if they didn’t like him as much. Or if he didn’t like them.

 

“It’s getting late.” he trails off and wishes it wouldn’t feel so much like he’s deceiving his friends.

Tony, now next to him, settles a hand on his arm. Clint can’t deny that he likes the warm weight of it and the genuine expression on Stark’s face but tries not to think about it. Actually, he has been trying more and more not to think about Tony lately, and this might become a problem.

 

“C’mon, birdbrain; the night is young, so are we!” After a second of thought, he eyes Steve warily. “Or at least some of us are.” Steve scoffs something about grey hair that Tony pointily ignores.

 

“I should get going.” Clint says, and lets himself be led back to the couch. He’s usually not the irresolute type- but there’s something about Tony that make him second-guess himself. Something about the engineer is intriguing and… he really shouldn’t go there. Not now. Perhaps, not ever.

Not completely giving up control, he leans against the back of the couch instead of being seated; but accepts the re-fill of his glass. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt he argues with himself; Lily’s fine, Maria Hill is an excellent babysitter.

 

“You’re hiding something.” Tony, who sprawled himself on said couch with his feet crowding in Steve’s personal space, props his head up on the backrest and gives Clint a calculating upside-down stare. The look of curious determination on the geniuses’ face makes Clint grin despite of the tense situation.

“I bet it’s a lady.” the engineer adds, poking the archer in the stomach. Clint tries very hard to suppress a laugh; only Tony can manage to be so wrong and so right at the same time. Nat’s stare bores in the back of his head. He doesn’t even have to turn around to know the look on her face.

 

“No kiss and tell.” he murmurs mysteriously into his glass. There’s a groan coming from Natasha’s direction. He ignores it with admirable patience. Someday, she’ll try to murder him, most likely.

 

“You’re no fun, Katniss.” Tony huffs, but his eyes tell that he doesn’t really mean it. Nevertheless, he eyes him warily like a puzzle that requires solving, and the archer feels three more sets of eyes on him.

Somehow, the moment has grown quite tense, and Clint feels really uncomfortable with being the center of their suspicious attention. There’s something about being watched that he avoids like the plague; something about the possibility of being _seen_ that sets off a nervous itching that starts in his palms and travels the length of his whole body. Clint prefers hiding.

He hasn’t always been that way…

***

The childhood in a circus is riddled with a complete lack of privacy, be it during the show or afterwards. Bunks and clothes are usually shared, time alone is rare, and everything that defines you as a person- the good, the bad, and the ugly- is laid out in the open, for everyone to examine. The others _see_ you, but they will never judge: They’re as broken as you are. Their stories are burned into their skin like a stigma; a body mapped with wounds that tell tragedies nobody ever asks about. Because they _know_. They know you’re like them.

After all these years, Clint still catches himself scrubbing his wounds sometimes, as if they would disappear if he only tried hard enough. But you can’t scrub off yourself. And while the physical ones might fade with time, the scarring on the heart is not easily tended to.

But that’s another story nobody wants to hear.

 

The people who come to the circus _gape_ at you, for you are _not_ like them. You can dance on a tightrope, and swallow a sword, or set yourself on fire- you are a misfit, an abnormity they only allow into their world for a certain amount of time and only from a good distance away.

If you’re good-looking, they undress you with their eyes, for you’re the piece of meat they’re allowed to lust over, because you are strange- and all the beauty in the world can’t change that you’re a freak that is _not_ like them.

You know that’s not true. You know they don’t know the you that’s hiding behind the mask. It doesn’t matter. They won’t change their perception. You never bothered to try and make them.

 

As an assassin, you’re invisible- that _is_ your job. You’re also completely alone. For someone who has never been alone his whole life, being alone is like a revelation. You suddenly realize that it’s not the circumstances that make you lonely. It’s the people. In all of his life, a 20-year-old hired assassin named Clint Barton realized- after having shot three men straight in the heart- that he has never felt less lonely, than he does when being all alone.

 

SHIELD changed him. SHIELD changed everything; gave him a future he hasn’t had the slightest idea how to handle; and suddenly there came this woman into his life, who was as broken as him, a woman who _understood_.

Suddenly, Clint couldn’t stand to be alone anymore. Him and Natasha are both halves of a very unsettling whole, but they click, and they help each other heal. People assume that they’re together, that they fuck occasionally, that they belong to each other in a simpler, romantic and sexual sense. They find peace in never confirming or denying the rumors. It’s easier than trying to explain these emotions between them. Clint is pretty sure they wouldn’t believe him, anyway. Natasha’s beautiful, and that’s about all the justification they seem to need. Clint knows better. He also knows that she is loyal to the ones she considers family, and deadly to the ones she considers a threat.

 

Fast forward a few years; and would you look at that, he’s that guy now:  Working in a team and having friends. A good guy. Who only kills if necessary and kills for a greater goal; not just for the satisfaction of succeeding in something that everyone else fears to do. He no longer is the guy who prides himself for the people he has killed. He’s a good guy now, a guy who safes people.

At least he tries.

He tries, and it’s hard. But he has Lily, and he _did_ save Lily; or maybe she did save him; really, he can’t be sure at this point.

But as long as he is able to hug his daughter at the end of the day, he feels like he has achieved something good in his life.

***

The sound of his phone pulls the archer right out of his head. The nostalgia is instantly forgotten and replaced by a cold-blooded panic. There aren’t many people who know his number, and four of them are currently in the same room with him. His heart sinks right into his guts when he sees Maria Hill’s caller ID.

He scrambles to answer the call, but his fingers shake clumsily. He can’t help himself, it’s always like that when it’s about Lily.

While he slams the phone against his ear (and winces because it knocks hard against his hearing-aid), he wastes a split second to think about leaving the room- or the tower, really; but it’s urgent, and he’s anxious, and who gives a fuck about what they think, anyway? (He does. Let’s not go there. It’s easier to pretend that you’re unaffected.) He turns his face away from all of them, but it’s not like they didn’t catch his sudden change of posture.

 

It’s a vain attempt to fool the genius of two scientists and the enhanced senses of a super-human. Also considering the fact that the Avengers are the worst gossip girls he ever met, Clint’s very obviously sailing a sinking ship here. At least Thor’s currently off to whatever, or else the news would have been spread across the whole fucking universe.

 

The air in the very room has changed, and he tries not to think about how confused and perhaps worried they all feel while seeing him like this. Clint doesn’t want to bother anyone with himself. Clint prefers hiding over being a burden, any day.

 

“Is she alright?” he doesn’t even say ‘hello’, but Maria is used to his fits of fatherly hysteria by now.

 

“Sorry for interrupting,” she sounds apologetic; but not like it’s time to freak out. So, Clint tries, being the responsible parent that he is, to not freak out. His attempt is semi-successful. He realizes that he’s gripping the couch so hard that the leather is already straining underneath his grip, so he forces to relax his fingers.

 

“We’re fine.” The vice around his intestines loosens a little bit. He forces himself to take a steady breath. Responsible parental figure. _Calm_ responsible parental figure.

 

He hears Maria sigh her small trademark sigh. “She had a nightmare.”

Clint finally relaxes. They’ve been battling on and off with nightly terrors pretty much since he had known Lily. Things she never told him about, probably because she was too young to comprehend them fully, things about her mother and the circus come and haunt her sometimes.

It’s the routine they worked on long and detailed- there had been a couple of rough missions away (even if he didn’t take anything that was longer than a few days, Avengers business being the absolute exception), but they worked it out. They had their little routine that could be done even when he was away, and it helped Lily to overcome the separation anxiety she often felt but never voiced.

 

“Hand her over.” He leans against the couch and forgets where he is for a moment. It seems insignificant now. Not even the eyes glued to his back bother him too much. If this is it, then be it. Maybe he’s just tired of hiding. Maybe he just really fucking wants to talk to his daughter right now. Maybe he wants them to _know_ him. At least, that’s what he’ll tell himself later on his way to the SHIELD headquarters, re-playing and analyzing and doubting the situation over and over.

But that’s still distant, now.

 

There’s a little bit of shuffling on the other end of the line, and then a very quiet voice breaths into the receiver: “Dad.”

***

Clint still remembers the first time she had called him “Dad”. Clint would remember this moment until his dying day, he later vows to himself. He still remembers feeling absolutely terrified and strangely calm about the trust this little human being has placed into his hands. He doesn’t know how they went from “Clint” to “Dad”, but it happened somewhere along the lines; and if Clint ever had a shred of doubt about the adoption, it vanishes whenever he hears her deep affirmation of trust and affection again.

***

“I’m here, honey.”

 

He hears a relived little sigh at the end of the line. How he deserves to be loved like this, Clint will never know.

 

“Maria said you were having a bad dream. Do you want to talk about it?”

 

A moment of silence. Then, still quiet: “No.”

 

“That’s alright.”

 

“Are you coming home?” His heart melts into a little puddle.

 

“Of course, I’m as good as back already.” To emphasize his point, he pushes himself away from the couch, although she can’t see him.

 

The others do, though. He meets Nat’s eyes, but ignores the rest. She mouths something that looks distinctive like ‘Finally, old coward’, but Clint just smiles.

 

“Auntie Tasha says hi.” Somewhere behind him, Tony chokes on his drink.

 

Lily’s voice brightens considerably: “Hi back! Make sure she doesn’t forget about ice-cream on Saturday!”

 

Clint makes sure she can hear his laugh: “I’ll tell her, Lils. Now. How about you tell Maria to make you a hot coco, grab Lion and choose a fun book to read?”

 

“Daaad. I’m not a baby.” Clint grins, for he knows things like these work every time: they worked when she was six, and they work now, although Lily insist she’s very grown-up for her ten years. It’s their routine, and their routine is safety; although she can read better than him by now, although the books they choose for this occasion are a tad too childish for her age; it’s more about reminiscing the safe space they are building around them, like a little bubble.

 

“’course you’re not, honey. Your dad’s just being silly.” Somewhere behind him, Tony now drops his drink.

 

There’s a small moment of silence. When she speaks again, her voice is softer again, but much warmer: “Saranghaeyo” (Ko: I love you).

 

Clint’s still not very smart, he left school early as soon as he acquired the bare minimum of everything, but he tries to learn Korean for her sake. It’s only fair, considering she’s done a beautiful job to learn sign language for him, for the moments where his hearing aids aren’t working, or they need a private conversation in a room full of people.

 

“Nado Saranghaeyo” (Ko: I love you too). He closes his eyes and just smiles to himself for a long moment.

 

“Be safe, Dad.”

 

“I’ll be back before you know it, honey.”

The call ends, and for a moment Clint just stands there. Natasha catches his eyes and is practically _giddy_ with pride; so giddy that Clint forgets to be self-conscious about the huge fucking thing he just revealed about himself. Instead, he flashes her one of his famous grins. If Nat learned to be alright with it- although ‘being alright’ might be the understatement of the century here- so could the others. And if they couldn’t…. well. That’s a thought for another day.

 

“Lily tells you to not forget about ice-cream on Saturday” he states, calmer than he feels. Nat gives him a thumbs-up, before glancing around to savor in the reaction of the others. Now curious himself, Clint risks a peek, too.

 

Bruce has his mildly surprised face on, but the risk of waking other guy always keeps his emotions relatively at bay. Steve eyes him with his trademark expression somewhere between confused and interested, a look Clint is achingly familiar with by now. Steve looks like that about a lot of things.

 

Tony, however. Always the dramatic, that Stark. He practically gapes at Clint, mouth opening and closing around a remark his brain yet has to work out; and the archer laughs, because the so-called genius looks like a fucking moron while doing it.

 

Some of the tension in the air melts, for Nat joins in, too. Even Steve and Bruce are very politely stifling snickers. At last, Tony closes his mouth with a click.

 

“You broke him,” Nat states dead-serious, with a shit-eating grin.

 

Tony gives her a look, before fixing his gaze to the drink he had dropped- obviously thinking hard- before he eyes Clint like he just solved the greatest fucking mystery in the history of ever.

The archer should feel uncomfortable under this intense gaze, but the relief of finally having his biggest secret out in the open, is enough to make him feel calm; for the time being. There’s nothing to hide; for now. They know- now _they_ have to deal with it. He’s done his part.

 

“I have questions.” Tony states very calmly, while trying (and failing) to imitate Cap’s ‘no nonsense’ expression.

 

Before Clint can even open his mouth, Natasha jumps in. “And Clint’s needed elsewhere. We have time for one question right now, I’ll deal with the rest.” Clint could have kissed her, that woman was a marvel.

 

Tony puts his thinking face back on. “She’s the reason you’re not living with us?” he asks finally, timidly.

Clint didn’t expect that, to be honest (and to judge the surprise on the other’s faces, neither did they), but nodded without a moment of hesitation.

Tony huffs, as if he’s considering this answer, then looks away, eying his hands. Almost hesitate, an adjective not normally associated with the eccentric billionaire.

 

“The offer still stands, if, you know, if that’s something you both would feel comfortable with.”

 

Clint is taken aback by the sincerity and humbleness coming from such a loud, exaggerated person. He looks around, in search for confirmation or help or both, and is met with open faces, none of which seem to be against the idea. Even Bruce, who’s usually very hesitate when it comes to changes due to his little big green problem, gives him one of his fond ‘You’re an idiot’ looks.

Huh.

They _really_ like him.

 

The moment seems still a bit surreal to him when Natasha ushers him to the exit, while she whispers reassurances to him, that she totally got the situation under control, and that she’ll fill them in on all the details that are important. Clint still wants to kiss her.

So, he does; pecking her on the cheek, and it speaks more volumes than words ever could.

They got each other’s backs. That’s what family does.

 

Later that night, when all thoughts about nightmares are a distant memory, and Lily gently snuffles in the room next door, Clint allows himself to hope.

Maybe, just maybe, his family is about to expand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily meets the Avengers for the first time. 
> 
> Clint harbours a serious crush on Tony (not that he would ever admit it).

Two weeks later, Clint and Lily stand in front of the entrance to Stark Tower; with two suitcases filled with all of their few possessions and a lot of hopes and nervous anxiety in tow.

So, they’re really doing this.

Clint can think of 50+ reasons why this is essentially a bad idea, but none of them seem to outweigh the fact that he _wants_ to live with his friends and is 99% sure Lily was being honest when she agreed to give it a try.

Regardless, his girl’s opinion to this whole ordeal is the pivotal factor to its outcome, so in the roughly 30 seconds they have left until JARVIS opens the doors and acknowledges everyone of their arrival, he makes sure that she knows that, too.

“If you don’t want to do this after some time, or if you’re feeling uncomfortable, or if you’re not getting along with them; just tell me. We don’t _have_ to stay, there’s always a home for us back at SHIELD.”

Usually, Lily replays to this sort of fatherly overprotectiveness with a cheeky remark or a playful eyeroll, so the quiet nod is a dead giveaway that she’s nervous, too. Clint isn’t exactly sure if he is concerned or consoled by this fact, but it helps him to shake off some of his own antsy energy. He’s the responsible adult here, and most of the time he almost believes it when he calls himself that.

The doors slide open. No turning back now.

The hall is empty, like most of the time, and Clint ushers his gaping daughter to the elevators.

 

“Dad” Lily whispers urgently although nobody is there, “This place is _massive_.”

Clint can hardly blame her for her astonishment. The first time he set foot into this place, he thought it was a goddamn set of a rich kid movie. He can’t wait to see her face when he tells her that they will have a whole _floor_ to themselves.

 

“Good afternoon, Agent Barton, Miss Barton.” Lily almost jumps out of the elevator again, but Clint pulls her back, laughing. “You could have given us a warning, JARVIS.”

“Apologies, Agent Barton.”

Clint looks down at his daughter and has to laugh again, this time because of the priceless expression on her face.

“Dad, you’re talking to an elevator. And it’s _answering_.” On second thought, maybe _he_ should have given her some warning what to expect at Stark Tower.

“JARVIS is an AI, Tony built him. He basically runs the tower.”

“Oh. Hi, JARVIS! Nice to meet you.”

“My pleasure, Miss Barton.”

“So… electronic butler controlling our whole living environment, too crazy for you?”

Clint dearly hopes not, because all things considered, JARVIS is one of the tamer things she might encounter in the tower.

Lily just grins, so big that her dimples are showing.

 

The elevator stops at the main living area, where everyone (alright, almost everyone, for Thor is still somewhere in distant galaxies) is gathered, trying to act all natural and failing. Steve is actually holding his book upside-down. Smooth, Captain.

Realizing that they’re all just as nervous fills Clint with immense relief.

Well, not all of them. Natasha’s casually sitting at the breakfast-bar, looking calm and collected. Lily spots her immediately and abandons the hiding position behind him (which she had gotten in, as soon as the doors had opened) and runs towards the spy.

Thank heaven for Natasha Romanoff.

Nat beams in a way that is solely reserved for Lily and they exchange hearty greetings.

Clint is really bloody glad that Natasha is there. He’s really bloody glad to have Natasha, in general.

So it doesn’t even matter that he’s standing with all of their stuff at the open elevator door, and is abandoned by the person he’d been dying to introduce. It really doesn’t matter. This isn’t so much about him, as it is about Lily.

And Lily seems to be immensely happy to see her auntie.

Clint exhales slowly, feeling the nervousness leave him a bit. They’d be fine, either way.

Steve and Tony watch in stunned silence at the exchange between the little girl and the usually very stoic (and very SCARY, as Tony liked to put it) agent. There’s quiet cluttering coming from the kitchen. Bruce is busy making magic, then.

Before things could get too out of hand- because the ladies were evidently already planning their afternoon and the rest of the bunch sat around quite awkwardly, Clint decides to make use of his fatherly authority.

“Ladies, just a second” To his astonishment, their chatter stopped (must be the presence of other people, normally Nat and Lily were as thick as thieves when it came to ‘disobeying’ him. Not that he minded). All eyes were on him now, expecting.

Well.

Wouldn’t have hurt to plan ahead.

Oh, well.

“Everyone, meet Lily. Lils, this is the gang.”

Tony snorted, to everybody’s immense relief. “You make it sound like we’re a boyband, Katniss.”

Trust Tony Stark to make an uncomfortable situation more comfortable. He was born to be a host, now that he gotten over the first shock of seeing Lily (and watching Nat being NOT SCARY).

“Naturally, I must be the pretty one, then,” he continues, flashing Lily his biggest grin, and a small wink. As anticipated, the girl giggles quietly, already warming up to the situation. Somewhere behind him, Steve groans good-naturedly.

It was hard not to like Tony, when he was being his funny, charming self.

‘It’s hard not to like Tony, in general,’ Clint suddenly thinks, but stops that train of thought immediately.

“I’m the one and only Tony Stark, madame, welcome to my tower.” Tony bows a little in front of Lily, and she offers him a shy smile in return.

So far, so good.

“I’m Bruce,” the smooth, warm voice of the scientist wavers in from the kitchen. “And I’m making raspberry tards, they should be ready in time for some afternoon tea” He sticks his head out and nods at Lily. “If you guys are amendable.”

So far, so _better_. Recently, Bruce had picked up baking as a hobby, finding that it ‘calmed his nerves and was deeply satisfying’. The Tower had been stocked up with baked goods every other day ever since.

“Excellent!” Tony announces, before anybody has the chance to say something. “Would you like a little tour, around the tower?”

Lily looks up at her dad (who came over to lean at the breakfast bar to appear casual, but in reality, is just making sure his little princess isn’t feeling overwhelmed) and he nods, encouragingly. “Go ahead, then. I’ll get those bags sorted meanwhile.” He ruffles her hair affectionately. It feels strange being watched while interacting with his daughter.

Clint feels a wave of insecurity grip him. What if they judge him? What if they think he’s a bad father? What if he _is_? But Lily looks at him, grateful for the familiar contact, and some of the pressure around his heart loosens. They’re fine.

Lily then eyes her auntie and asks in a quiet tone that Clint immediately recognizes as her ‘shy tone’ if Tasha could come along, too.

While Natasha claps and states that that’s a “Fantastic idea, little fox!”, Tony looks a bit terrified that they’re gonna team up against him (let’s face it, they already are). Nat pokes Tony in the ribs for good measure, and Tony honest to God squeaks.

In this happy tumult, Steve takes his chance to introduce himself properly. He and Lily even shake hands, all formally.

“I’m Steve, it’s nice to meet you, Lily.”

She just stares at him, thinking very intently. Suddenly, her face lights up in recognition. “You’re the guy from the posters! Dad! The posters from all over SHIELD? It’s him! Wow!” (of course, Lily knows what her father does. Of course, she knows that these people are superheroes, recognized all over the world for fighting evil. Yet, they seem so different from the people she sometimes sees on TV (not that she is allowed to watch the news without supervision) now, sitting around in their living room).

Clint has a hard time suppressing his laughter while explaining to Steve that his god-awful Captain America promo-shots where plastered all over the SHIELD living quarters, with uplifting motivational texts underneath. He was pretty sure it had been Maria Hill’s idea. He almost looses his shit when Lily asks Steve to sign one of the posters she did bring along.

 

While Tony makes a show out of showing Lily around; Steve helps Clint to bring the bags to their floor. Clint realizes he has never been alone with Steve before and suddenly wonders why. There was something nice and comforting about Steve Rogers, something that was unlike his stern Captain America- persona. Clint realizes that he can now hang out with Steve more- with all of them for that matter-and this fills him with a deep, warm happiness.

When they enter the floor and Clint sees that Tony has installed a shooting range just for him, he is overcome by a strong emotion. When they carry Lily’s bag to the room that will be hers, Clint has to lean against the doorframe and take a couple of calming breaths.

“It’s a lot, huh?”

Steve gets it.

Clint just nods, and fears that if he’d talk now he might burst into tears. He had anticipated that it would be different. He hadn’t anticipated how much he would feel, how touched he would be; but here he is and the full realization what it means to live in the Stark Tower crashes down on him.

Nonetheless, he tries to find his voice. “She’s never had a room of her own. It’s just- I could never give her-“

And Steve just nods, and Clint doesn’t have to explain it, because Steve comes from a modest background, too; Steve gets it.

They just take it in, for a long moment; and then Steve breaks it, gently, by taking Clint to unpack his stuff in his own bedroom.

Clint is grateful for a friend like Steve.

 

Afternoon tea is _divine_ , Bruce really outdid himself with that delicious raspberry tards. The atmosphere is light and friendly. Lily totally forgets to be shy when she talks about playing with DUM-E and the sheer massiveness of the tower; using animated gestures to carry her point across. It fills Clint with a deep joy to see his daughter so carelessly happy, now completely at ease with this situation. The prospect to make this all work is really, really awesome. He hopes he doesn’t have to let it go.

Looking around, he realizes with pride that everyone seems to be delighted by his girl. And although she now has a whole audience to listen to her wild ideas of how to transform the tower in one big playground for her, it’s the small moments where she catches his eyes and smiles, or turns to him and almost squishes his hand, because “Dad, did you even consider the POSSIBILITIES of playing tag around the tower?!”. He smiles and encourages her playfully, and is about ready to combust from affection. What his life would be like without Lily, he doesn’t even want to imagine.

He isn’t as paranoid of revealing this new side of himself to his friends as he had been. It still feels weird to be in Dad-mode when around the Avengers, solely because he had to keep these two personalities separate for so long. To his relief, he realizes that Dad-Clint and Friend-Clint are essentially the same person. Lily helps too, though, by interacting with him like she did at SHIELD, making him feel like it doesn’t really matter where they are, that he would always be her dad. It’s a worry he didn’t really know he had until it was lifted off his chest. It was silly to think like that. He had been the best pick at SHIELD, but talent and offerings-wise, he clearly wasn’t the best pick of the Avengers. Maybe he had been scared, just a tiny little bit, that she would like them more than him, and that would leave him with, what? He doesn’t want to think about it. And he doesn’t have to, damnit, because that’s not how any of this works. So, while they clear the table- and Bruce and Lily engage in a very passionate conversation about chocolate chip cookies- Clint sighs inaudible, and vows to take a page out of Nat’s book. She’s right; he’s working himself up over nothing.

 

Just before dinner- to celebrate their arrival, there’ll be a pizza party- Clint takes Lily up to their floor, to show her their new home. The others have backed off a bit to give them some privacy, and for that Clint is actually grateful. This moment is big for him, bigger than he can admit to himself. He was never able to give Lily much in the material department. Lily is in high spirits, because she just successfully beat Steve in five out of five chess matches (Steve heroically let her win the first time. The other four times, he got his ass served on a silver plate). But when they enter the floor, she gets quiet.

“Alright?” Clint asks, resting a warm hand on her shoulder.

She swallows. “Yeah. Just. It’s a lot, isn’t it?”

“I know. A good a lot, yeah?”

This time, she starts to smile. “Yeah”, she agrees. “Thanks, dad” she adds, as an afterthought.

“Technically, Tony owns this place-“ he starts, while pushing her in the direction of her room. “But, since it is generally known that I am awesome, I take it”

She giggles and shoves him playfully but stops dead when she realizes that they are now standing in her room.

Clint feels his own heart leaping in his throat, when he watches her eyes get bigger and bigger while taking it all in. It’s a plain room, but nicely furnished, and with enough space to add her personal touch to it.

“Wow” she breathes, after a minute of silence.

“It still needs a little work, but you can do whatever you want with this place. It’s all yours”

She doesn’t speak, she just paces the length of the room, toching every surface- to soft comforter on the bed, the wooden texture of the cupboards, the fluttery material of the curtains. Clint leans against the doorway and just watches her. When she arrives at the center of the room, she turns to him, and she smiles like the sun. Clint has always thought of her as his little ray of sunshine, and right now he feels like her face is like a summer day- all bright, and light, and happy.

 

And then Lily runs- and practically leaps- into his arms, to lock him in a hug that almost knocks him to the ground.

“Saranghaeyo, Dad” (ko: I love you). Her voice is muffled by the fabric of his shirt, but Clint can hear her loud and clear. His heart swells a little more, and he hugs her tighter.

“Nando Saranghaeyo, honey” (ko: I love you too) he murmurs against her hair, before placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Agent Barton? May I inform you that dinner is ready”

The smooth British voice of JARVIS startles them out of their emotional moment, and they laugh a bit about their own sappiness.

“C’mon, piggyback ride”

Lily, who was still clinging to him like a little monkey, squeals, and skillfully climbs onto his back (the perks of growing up at the circus).

 

Long after dinner that night, Clint stands in his very own bedroom, and lets out a breath. The day had been going way better than he had imagined. With a giddy feeling in his limps, he noted that they might finally did find the home that their little family needed.

It feels strange not having Lily around to keep him company. They shared a room at SHIELD and always spent their evenings together. Clint doesn’t really know what to do with himself, now that Lily isn’t planning activities for both of them. He kind of misses it already.

He wanders the room a little aimlessly; sitting on the bed, standing up again. Just as he considers to change out of his sweatpants into some proper work-out gear and head to the range or the gym, there’s a knock on his door.

He knows immediately who it is. His heart makes a little happy leap.

“Hey, Lils”, he murmurs gently. Her hair is tousled and loose from her pony tail, and there’s a book under her arm. She looks a tad sheepish.

 

Clint closes the door behind her, and both settle against the headboard of his bed. The familiar company is instantly calming for both of them.

“We didn’t finish the chapter yesterday” It’s Lily’s way of saying that she misses him without actually saying it. It’s fine, in fact it’s perfect, it works for them.

“Well, we can’t leave it at that, can we?” he agrees, while opening the latest book of interest, a collection of detective stories. Although they were aimed at children, Clint found himself appreciating their humor and being drawn in by the exciting cases. He had never been read to as a child, and it feels is like a great opportunity to re-live this lost experience.

“Do you want to read, or shall I?” Sometimes, Lily is eager to read for them, making Clint almost  detonate with fatherly pride.

“You do it” she speaks softly, already settling heavy against his shoulder, in a way that she could look at the words as they progressed along the page. It was a slow pace, considering his lower than average reading skills, but Lily never had minded their leisured progress. It makes Clint feel less of a failure. Less stupid.

 

About three pages in, JARVIS pipes up again.

“Mr. Barton, Miss Barton, may I inform you that sir is standing in front of your door at this very moment, asking for entrance. He happens to be carrying some hot chocolate”

To say that Clint was surprised, might be the understatement of the century.

The one and only Tony Stark; offering even more hospitality than he already offered all day. Somewhere deep down, Clint always did know that Tony had a good heart; but it was easy to miss it behind all the layers of arrogance and sneer.

“What do you think, hm?” he eyes Lily, who’s still slumped against his shoulder, watching him with attentive eyes. “Shall we let Tony in?”

“He brought hot coco” she replies solemnly, as if Tony just made an offer she couldn’t refuse (Clint made a mental note to tone down her sugar intake for the next day, considering that today went pretty wild with it. At least, he vowed himself to try, being the splendid parent that he is).

Just as Clint debated with himself if he should get out of bed, to greet their visitor properly, the door opens with a soft click.

 

The shirt Tony wore had cartoony robots on it (his bed attire, apparently. If the genius ever did go to bed) was more adorable than it had any right to be. The man in the shirt was closely behind in adorable-ness (not that Clint would ever admit he was having such thoughts), and the hot chocolate did smell really _really_ good.

“Warm welcome from the kitchen” the engineer smiles sheepishly and something inside Clint’s stomach stirs.

Their fingers brush when Tony hands over the hot beverage and the stirring turns into a violent flip. Tony must have felt Clint flinch in surprise, because he suddenly looks slightly flustered. Red is a very becoming color for him, Clint notes, before forcefully dragging his mind away from this direction.

“Thanks, Tony. Really appreciate it”

He elbows Lily in the rips, who is already inhaling the sweet liquid. “Thanks” she adds passionately around the rim of the cup. “It’s really good”

“It’s a special recipe. Google is your friend,” the millionaire’s eyes twinkle. Clint is surprised for the second time that night, considering he had been almost 100% sure Tony just pestered Steve or Bruce to make the hot chocolate; knowing that he made it himself….

Well.

Here comes the stomach flips.

“Alright then” Tony scratches his neck, looking more timid than he ever looked in all those years that Clint had known him. Somehow, he feels like he’s about to get to know the real Tony Stark while living here; the one that isn’t hiding behind countless armors. The thought shouldn’t make him this excited.

“I didn’t want to interrupt, so I better get going-“

“We were just getting started” Lily interrupts him (ha). She gestures to the book. “You can listen, too. Dad doesn’t mind” Clint really shouldn’t be surprised by how quickly Lily seemed to have found a liking in Tony; she was easily persuaded when food was involved.

“Right, Dad?” Clint can’t help but feel the intense gaze filled with… something that Tony has been given him all day, whenever they interact. He knows some part of Tony is analyzing this new side of him, but he finds that he doesn’t really mind it, if it’s Tony.

“Lils, file him in on the details” he answers, scooting over a bit, so there’s enough room for Tony on Lily’s other side (and that he can look into the book as well, something that Lily finds essential during readings).

While Lily starts rattling off about the mystery the detective inspector finds himself in, Tony eyes the domestic scene before him for another 30 seconds or so, undoubtly trying to insert himself into the picture. Clint looks up and their eyes meet. There’s a softness to Tony’s gaze which he has never seen before.

He looks almost…nervous about entering this private, intimate space with them. If he’s being honest with himself, Clint’s nervous, too. It’s not like they never shared moments like these with other people but sharing them with _Tony_ makes him feel vulnerable. He isn’t sure if Tony would judge him for being… slow (he didn’t deem it necessary to share his lack of education with his friends), or if Tony would somehow… disapprove of his parenting skills (not that Tony was an expert on parenting 1o1, Clint couldn’t really explain why it was Tony’s opinion that he cared about so much).

Thinking about these complex emotions makes the archer drop his gaze to the page. He feels silly, all of a sudden. Why would Tony _want_ to stay, anyway? He was an engineer, he owned a company, he was a genius. Surely, he had more important stuff to do and places to be. Not listening to a _moron_ reading detective stories for kids.

 

When Tony actually settles into a sitting position on the bed, it seems like he surprise both of them with it. Clint looks up, and their eyes meet and… wow, that’s-

“Daaad, c’mooon. I want to know how he solves it!”

Right. The book.

Clint takes a deep breath, and mentally prepares himself for being humiliated. “Alright, where were we?”

Lily happily continues to inhale her hot chocolate, satisfied at the progress of things.

 

The first few lines are awkward, and Clint feels the words slipping from him. But neither Lily, nor Tony seem to notice (or they are being polite about it), and after a while the knot in his tongue eases a bit. He’s still slow, and there are still words he has to pronounce extra careful; but he tries to make up for it with doing the voices of the different characters just how Lily likes it. One chapter turns into two as the evening progresses; and on the last page, Clint realizes that Lily is slumped against his side, fast asleep.

He throws a quick glance at Tony and sees that the engineer is resting against the headboard with his eyes closed. He looks more content than Clint has ever seen him before. He likes this version of Tony, very much. The version that isn’t sarcastic, and aloof, and drunk.

Instead of breaking the moment, the archer finishes the last page, before closing the book quietly.

At the change, Tony opens his eyes slowly, and their eyes meet again over Lily’s head. Clint’s heart is immediately thumbing wildly and a warm feeling of.. . something is spreading through his body. Suddenly, his arms feel tingly, and nervous. To busy himself, he takes a sip of his mostly ignored hot chocolate.

He moans quietly. It’s fucking _fantastic_.

 

“It doesn’t make sense”

Clint almost chokes on his next sip. He panics, thinking that they arrived at the part of the evening, where Tony tells him that he is a crap father and that he shouldn’t be Lily’s guardian.

“How the hell did he find the murder by the color of his shoelace? How is that even possible? I gotta do research about this”

Something inside of Clint crumbles.

The book. Tony’s talking about the book.

The book of which’s reading he sat patiently through, even though Clint is… well, Clint.

 

Oh, _crap_. Don’t fall in love with that guy now, don’t make it fucking complicated now. Just. Don’t.

 

The archer stands up hurriedly and silently begs that Tony didn’t notice his face heating up. This is absolutely not happening right now.

“’m tucking her in” he mumbles and picks his softly snoring daughter up. Lily still likes being carried (and being tucked in), occasionally, although it is such an “uncool” thing to do. Ten is a curious age; she has the attitude of a teenager, but still allows herself to be awed by the world like children do. Clint really hopes she keeps that sense of wonder.

She wakes up a little bit when Clint sets her down on the bed, but only stirs to wrap her arms loosely around his neck for a second.

“G’night, Dad” She slurs, voice already heavy with sleep.

“Good night, honey. Sleep tight” Clint feels her arms loosen around his neck, so he kisses her forehead and leaves the room.

 

When he returns to his own bedroom, Tony is gone. Clint feels like he really shouldn’t be disappointed, but he is. He chides himself immediately. Tony had no reason to stay. Tony was just being polite. Clint’s just being silly, thinking there might be… something, when there is clearly nothing.

Nope.

Nothing at all.

 

When he has settled underneath the sinfully soft duvet, he turns to the nightstand to turn off the light. His hand brushes the book of detective stories, and there is a note attached to it.

Clint’s stomach does a violent flip when he picks it up to read it. His hand is shaking so much, he needs several attempts to make out the messily scribbled lines.

 

‘Thanks for the evening.

T.S.’

 

Clint reads it three times. He doesn’t even realize he’s smiling like the cat who got the canary, until he makes a motion to wipe over his face.

_Oh, crap_.

 

Even after the lights are long off, and the note is safely stored in the drawer of his nightstand, Clint is still smiling stupidly to himself.

Maybe he’s falling for Tony Stark, but only a tiny little bit.

And maybe it’s okay, only a tiny little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, it took me like CENTURIES. 
> 
> Phew! But now I have some more time, hopefully.
> 
> Kudos, Comments, and Bookmarks are super-duper appreciated <3

**Author's Note:**

> Finally got around to write something Avenger-y! Inspired by Jeremy Renner's instagram bc it is honestly the most wholesome thing ever.
> 
> Lily's my OC, show her some love!
> 
> Kudos, Comments, and Bookmarks make my day <3


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